Saving The Little Guy
by Lyz Shadow
Summary: While the League's out fighting monsters, who's going to protect the little guy? Was "Standing In The Shadows". Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

_**Summary: While The League is out fighting monsters, who's going to protect the little guy?**_

_**Couples that appear in this story are SupermanxLois Lane, Green ArrowxBlack Canary, QuestionxHuntress, and some vague recolections of BatmanxCatwoman, with hints at future BatmanxWonder Woman. I'm messing with the timeline and their ages a bit in this story, but stay with me, okay? This is an Alternate Universe (AU) fic, I guess. Also, the Bizarro in this story is affected by normal kryptonite, and The Shade is the immortal comic version. And if it's not to much trouble, please set aside the fact that Twilight is the name of a romance novel. Twilight herself is far from romantic.**_

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_Saving The Little Guy_

_Chapter One_

Waiting.

Oh, bloody hell, how she hated waiting.

Twilight waited on the roof, staring out at Gotham City. It was surprisingly quiet, but some significant members of the scum population had moved out recently, so many gangs were still wondering what to do without their heads bossing them around.

And of course, there was fear.

Ever since the Justice League came into action, most villains were hesitant to pull off anything large scale, but medium and low-level crime thrived. Even in Gotham, where the Bat still patrolled, petty thieves were much bolder and quicker to act.

That was where N.I.G.H.T. came in.

A steady beeping noise interrupted her thoughts. She touched the small electronic transmitter in her ear. "Twilight here. What's up?"

Enigma's voice came as clearly as if she was standing in front of her. "It's Enigma. We have a serious situation in Blüdhaven."

"Elaborate?"

"Shade, Bizarro, Humanite, and Atomic Skull. They were robbing Blüdhaven central bank, but now Black Arrow's out of action and I can't fight them alone."

"The League's still out on that alien threat thing?"

"Yep. They've got absolutely everyone up there."

Twilight paused. If there were any real threat to humanity, she would have known about it months ago, as would Enigma. It had to be a distraction.

Enigma seemed to have come to the same conclusion.

"It's a false alarm."

"Yep. I reckon the League have been duped."

"I'll get them informed of that. Meanwhile, how am I supposed to stop these four?"

Even though the design of the earpiece and transmitters meant she was not meant to hear background noise, Twilight had been hearing crashes throughout the conversation. And of course there was the rare nervous tone in the other girl's voice. Twilight checked a monitor in her contacts and quickly replied.

"Phase and Wolf are close to the area, I'll call them. I presume you already brought in Red?"

"Yeah, he's on his way. Can you come or are you busy?"

"I'm coming. Twilight out."

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It was near midnight in Blüdhaven, as Twilight arrived at the scene of the fight. An angry Red had already subdued Atomic Skull, and Phase was easily taking on Humanite. However, it was taking both Wolf and a revived Black Arrow to hold Bizarro, and that left Enigma struggling with the last villain

Time to try out her new toy. The Shade was the biggest threat, but all great threats were well prepared for by the young vigilante. She removed a small disk from her belt. It was filled with wiring leading from a black stone in the centre. Touching her earpiece, she whispered instructions to Enigma.

"Lead him so he faces away from the left wall. Good. Now grab his staff."

Enigma quickly snatched the villain's black staff, breaking it over her knee and throwing it away. His only protection gone, Twilight flicked the disk expertly onto his back, where is stuck. Then, before he could react, she activated the device. A bright flash of light and Shade fell to the ground, unconscious.

Red and Enigma had joined Wolf and Black Arrow in fighting Bizarro, but there was no need, as Twilight threw a black throwing star at him and he collapsed, drained. Black Arrow quickly clapped her hands on his temples, knocking him out.

"Don't take the star out, or he'll come to." Arrow nodded. Phase had simply dragged Humanite into the ground and left him there, so that seemed like enough. Unfortunately, they had another problem.

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The black haired reporter emerged from the shadows, after taking several pictures. She held out a microphone.

"Look, lady," said one, shifting out of the form a wolf into a black cloaked form, a well-built male with a mask covering his face and hair. "We don't do media, okay?"

The reporter glared. "Nobody can 'not do' media. The world needs to know what's going on. Who are you?"

All of them had dark colour schemes in their costumes. One had no face at all, just plain skin covering her–well, the long black hair and body-shape suggested it was a she– face, while the rest of her body was covered by a navy blue trench coat over a black, fitted shirt and black pants. Black gloves and runners covered her hands and feet. She loosely held a black crossbow.

The other was the wolf-boy, or man, it was hard to tell. He –it was definitely a he– was either in his late teens, the investigative reporter decided, or his early twenties. The only other male looked younger, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. His costume was black and dark red, but that was all the journalist could tell in the poor light. It was harder to see anything of the figure next to him, as only black and dark grey were included in their costume, but when she squinted she saw it was a woman, but the age could have been anything from a tall sixteen-year-old to someone in their twenties.

All this had taken her seconds to note down in the back of her mind, before her thoughts were interrupted.

"Not media-oriented," growled another figure, which she hadn't even noticed, they were so cloaked in darkness. "Now if you'll excuse us."

"So you're not part of the Justice League then?"

"No."

The reporter blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, they were gone.

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J'onn J'onnz studied the small four-pointed throwing star curiously. When Superman had been dispatched to stop the attack on Blüdhaven City Bank (after they realised the alien threat was a hoax, the origin of which was still unknown), he had found all four criminals under lock and key in the Blüdhaven holding cells. They had been subdued, according to a reporter from out of town who had been on the scene, by a group of either heroes or vigilantes who claimed to be "not media oriented". An ingenious if unusual device was stuck to the Shade, some sort of electric field which destroyed his shadow so as to leave him vulnerable. Another curious weapon which had been found was the throwing star, which had been used to subdue Bizarro, and had been laced with kryptonite. This was enough to pique the League's interest. But as J'onn soon discovered, it was high-grade kryptonite. Almost pure, just enough not so that it wasn't reactive. The only reactive kryptonite was found in Smallville. The only kryptonite of this grade was owned by Wayne Enterprises and previously by LexCorp. Either they had managed to salvage some from Luthor's stash or someone had stolen it from Wayne Enterprises. Batman had checked and there had been no recorded thefts in that sector.

"Please," he had said. "I would have alerted the League immediately if so much as a speck of kryptonite had been taken."

Which left very few options. One was that someone had bought the kryptonite under-the-table, or that they had salvaged some of LexCorp's lot before it had been seised. Both were currently being investigated. The weapon was also an impressive work, as binding the kryptonite to the metal would involve heating it just high enough to work the metal without allowing the kryptonite to become reactive. One would have to be a genius, not to mention an expert on kryptonite, to make something like this.

J'onn looked up as Superman entered the room, but stood far away from the kryptonite infused throwing star.

"Any progress?" asked the Kryptonian.

"Very little. As I do not know exceptional amounts of information about either of these substances, I cannot discern any more than the previous investigators," he replied, referring to the nine other of the League's top scientists whom Kal-El had had examine the small weapon.

"Hm," Clark paused and regarded the throwing star. "We only have one option left for this thing."

J'onn, being a telepath, did not need to ask what the Kryptonian meant. "I will bring it to him personally."

Kal nodded, sighing. "If anyone can figure this thing out, it's him," he admitted. "I think I'll go see how Diana and Question are going with the photos."

Turning to go, Clark wondered why he felt reluctant to share this with Batman. He didn't know why, but for some reason, it felt like a personal threat, addressed to him and him alone. Still, now he had gotten over his reluctance, they would be getting some results. Bruce was, of course, a genius, and practically a kryptonite expert.

With these reassuring thoughts, he left the lab.

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"Hey Question," said Diana, a.k.a. Wonder Woman, holding up a photo, an enlarge version of the pictures the Metropolis reporter had given the Blüdhaven police. "This one looks like you. A relation of some sort?"

Vic Sage a.k.a. Charles Victor Szasz a.k.a. The Question looked up from his own pile of photos to the picture of the faceless girl. He rolled his eyes beneath his mask.

"Pseudoderm is quite easy to come across on the black market these days, Wonder Woman," he replied to his co-worker. "You are aware that this is a mask?"

"Uh, yes," she mumbled, returning to the pile. She had intended it as a joke, but it seemed being a detective and having no sense of humour went together.

"Does it strike you as strange that most of these figures have at least the physique of adolescents?" asked Question suddenly. Diana nodded.

"Yes, it did. Isn't there a young hero group connected to the League though?"

"The Teen Titans," agreed the faceless man. "These kids aren't with them though. As well as the fact they claimed not to be with the League, their builds and powers don't match up with any of the Titans. For example, we know one can turn into a wolf. The only titan who can do that is Beast Boy, and he isn't nearly big enough to be our man."

Diana nodded in agreement, and then resumed looking at a certain photo. It was grainier than the others, as the figure it depicted was further away and well hidden in shadows. It was difficult to see where the person ended and the shadows began. She passed Question the picture.

"What gender do you think that one is?" Sage answered almost immediately.

"It's a girl."

She took back the picture and squinted at it. "Are you sure?"

Just then Superman walked into the room. Diana quickly handed him the picture.

"Hello, Clark. Just the person I was looking for. Do you think this figure is a girl or a boy?"

Clark considered it for a minute. "It's almost to grainy to tell. But I'd say a girl, with about sixty per cent certainty."

"It's a girl," repeated Question.

"How do you know?" asked Kal-El.

"The form of the head, the fit of the costume. It's obvious really."

"I'll take your word for it, Question. Though I don't think Huntress would approve of your acute ability to identify females. She might dump you," joked Superman. Question looked indignant behind his mask.

"I'll have you know we are happily married. As you should know since you were there when we, ahem, tied the knot."

"Of course," chuckled the Kryptonian. "Any progress on our mysterious vigilantes?"

"They're teenagers," Diana said quickly. "Most of them at least, probably all. Their not Titans or ex-Titans. They've also got their hands on some Pseudoderm," she added, indicating the faceless girl.

Some of the colour seemed to drain from Superman's face at this. He paused momentarily before replying.

"How hard is it to come across Pseudoderm?" he asked, directing the question at the Question.

"Not very, if you know the right people. As I was saying to Diana earlier, it's relatively easy to find on the black market."

"Well that's a relief," the Kryptonian sighed. "Contact me if you find anything more."

"Are you going home early, Kal?" asked Diana curiously. Clark grinned.

"Yes, actually, I am. There happens to be a very beautiful woman waiting for me at home who I haven't seen for a few weeks and I'm anxious to get back to her."

Diana smiled. "Well, say hello to Lois for me. I haven't seen her in ages. We really must catch up sometime."

"Will do," he answered cheerily as he left. As soon as he was out of sight, he hurried to the teleporter, anxious to check up on not only his beautiful wife Lois, but the one no-one ever mentioned if they knew what was good for them: his step-son Tynan.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	2. Chapter 2

_**...I'm back... No, on a serious note, sorry it took so long to update and all. For once in my life I actually have this fic planned out and written on paper and stuff, but I've been very busy. But here it is: Chapter Two. Hope you like it, Enjoy!  
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_Saving The Little Guy  
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_Chapter Two_

"Honey, I'm home," Clark called out jokingly, his voice resounding through the apartment. Lois emerged from the living room, smiling.

"Nice to see you too, Smallville," she replied, smiling, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "What took you so long?"

"Alien threat scare," He replied. "And some new group with kryptonite stores."

"Kryptonite?" Lois asked, alarmed. "Where did they get it? Who are they?"

"We don't know yet, Lois. But don't worry about it." He paused, unsure if his next question would sound strange. It wouldn't, in ideal circumstances, but in his life it probably would, and his wife wasn't an investigative reporter for nothing. But still, he had to know.

"Did James mention if Tynan had been, uh, out while he was watching him?"

Lois shook her head. "He didn't leave the house, except for school. James wouldn't let him out of his sight."

Clark smiled a little, relieved. "He didn't like that, I'm guessing."

"You and I both know he brought it upon himself. We have absolutely no reason to trust him, the way he behaves…" Lois trailed of as they noticed simultaneously a boy of about fourteen, with black hair and impossibly blue eyes, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"What?" demanded Lois, her blue eyes flaring at the sight of her son. "It's true, and you know it."

Tynan looked totally un-phased. "Oh. You're back," he said coldly, inhuman eyes glaring into Clark's ones behind his glasses. Tynan's black hair was a little longer than your average teenage boy's, as if he couldn't be screwed getting it cut. His face, which might have been handsome if not for his expression, was set in a deep scowl. He always looked like this when he saw Clark.

"Why, yes, I am. How have you been Tynan?" Clark fought to be civil at the blunt statement. Tynan seemed to appreciate it, ever so slightly.

Well, at least he answered. "I've been worse. Once or twice."

And with that, he attempted to push past the couple towards the front door. As expected, both of them grabbed him by one of his arms and pulled him back.

"Ouch," he muttered, wincing, rubbing his arm where Clark had grabbed it. The Kryptonian felt slightly guilty, but his anger at the grief the boy gave Lois outweighed it greatly.

"You, young man, are not going anywhere."

Tynan glared at them. He was almost as tall as Lois now, but nowhere near Clark's height. But still, for a fourteen year old, he was tall, and surprisingly well built. He was also very, very stubborn.

"What's your problem?"

"What's our problem?" repeated his mother incredulously. "You mean the sneaking out at night, getting drunk, never doing homework, messing up in school, and being downright obnoxious aren't enough for you?" she continued, in full angry parent mode. Tynan didn't flinch, simply staring straight into her eyes. He didn't seem to notice her yelling at him anymore. Totally immune.

So Clark tended to try a different tactic. A guilt trip.

"Do you know how worried your mother and I have been? What happens if one night you wander onto the road and get run over? Do you even care what happens to you? Or is it all unimportant, as long as you can get smashed every night?"

"How is it your business?" retorted the teen, enraged. "_You're not my father_."

Clark felt hurt by the boy's words, but he stood firm. Tynan tried to push past him, but he viciously grabbed his shoulder, which made an audible snap. Clark released him, aghast.

"Tynan, I'm sorry," he exclaimed. "Are you alri–"

"I'm fine," the boy interrupted, storming past Clark towards his room, clutching his wounded shoulder. He paused as he passed his mother, and muttered, "I wish you'd never married him." Then he ran for his room and a few seconds later there was the sound of a door being slammed. Lois looked worried.

"I'm so sorry," Clark told her. She shook her head sadly.

"It wasn't your fault, Clark. If he wasn't like this… If maybe I'd raised him better–"

"Hey," Clark replied, in a softer tone. "It wasn't your fault he ended up like this. Maybe if I'd been around more–"

"Maybe if I stopped being fickle and admitted I loved you earlier, maybe then he'd have known you as his father."

Clark looked uncomfortable. "I know, Lois, but what if I'm not?" Tynan wasn't the only one who thought Clark was just his step-father; Clark himself was a little unsure.

Lois rolled her watery eyes. "Please, Smallville. He takes after you. He has your eyes, for one thing. And your build. Just no powers, or anything personality wise. I swear the kid tries his best _not_ to be like us," Lois mused. Clark nodded.

"I'll go check if he's alright."

"Don't yell at him, it'll only make him madder."

"I know. I'll just make sure I didn't hurt him."

Having x-ray vision played a more intricate part in parenting than Clark had ever expected. Going to Tynan's door he peered in. Luckily, he was still there. He was holding his hurt arm. It seemed to be dislocated. Not broken. That was better than nothing, at least. But he seemed to be… pulling at it, or something. Clark realised a fraction of a second to late what Tynan was doing.

"Tynan! Do not try to relocate your shoulder by yourself!" _Crack!_ The sickening sound was far too loud in Clark's Kryptonian ears. Luckily, Tynan's arm seemed to be successfully relocated. Clark knocked loudly on the door. "Tynan, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," came the muffled reply. He seemed okay, as far as Clark could tell, but his x-ray vision couldn't detect tissue damage through the wall.

Clark went to find Lois, who could probably talk Tynan into coming out better than he could. She was sitting in the living room, looking stressed.

"How is he?" she asked. He frowned in response.

"Reckless," Clark answered. "His shoulder was dislocated."

"Was?"

"He relocated before I could stop him."

"Oh my God," gasped Lois. "Is he alright?"

"I think so, but I'm not sure. I came to ask you if you could convince him to come out."

Lois rushed up to Tynan's door and knocked. "Tynan? Are you in there?"

After a few seconds she knocked again, and again, with no answer. Eventually she turned to Clark, but she knew what had happened. He quickly looked through the walls, but he too knew what he would find.

The room was empty. Tynan was gone.

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Bruce Wayne leaned back in his chair, sighing. He had come back from patrol half an hour ago, and was very irritated when he found that he had a message from Kent and he needed to examine a certain weapon. Twenty minutes after starting, he knew exactly what it was and where it came from.

The question was, should he tell Kent?

Alfred walked through the entrance to the Batcave with a mug of coffee on a tray. "Still awake, Master Bruce? Are the origins of the weapon Mr Kent found proving difficult to trace?"

"I know exactly where it comes from, Alfred," the billionaire said, holding up the throwing star.

"Ah. That."

"Indeed, Alfred. I'm wondering what I should tell Kent."

"May I ask, was it a direct attack on the League, sir?"

"Quite the opposite. While this weapon is laced with kryptonite, it was used to subdue Bizarro and they took down several other villains."

"They, Master Bruce?"

"A group of young vigilantes. They were stated to be in between fourteen and twenty years old, approximately."

"Any pictures?"

Bruce held up an A4 photo. "What do you think I should do?" He asked the Englishman.

"Perhaps it would be wise to shield them from the truth as long as they are doing nothing wrong. For her sake."

Bruce nodded, and pressed a few keys on the computer to contact the Kryptonian's communicator. "Kent," he growled, sounding every bit like Batman and not Bruce Wayne.

"Bruce? Is that you?" The reporter sounded tired and stressed.

"Obviously. Kid troubles I presume?"

"Yeah, Tynan's run off again. Lois and I are worried that one night he just won't come home."

There was an uncomfortable pause, then Bruce admitted, "I didn't call for a chat, Kent. I've examined the throwing star."

"Any clues?"

"Well, it's not sourced from Lex's stash. Not the right grade. It seems someone has been stealing Kryptonite from Wayne Enterprises. I'm going to check out the warehouse tomorrow."

"Good to know Lex isn't back… yet. Anything else?"

"Nothing you don't already know, except that one of the figures in the pictures you sent has been sighted in Gotham several months ago, but nothing illegal, just beating up thugs. Word on the street was they stopped a drug ring in Star City, but no verification."

"Gotham? Star City? They're all over the place!"

"Don't let it get to your head, Kent. They may be everywhere, but so are we."

"Actually, I think there were some sightings in Metropolis too, but at the time I ignored them, presuming it was just a bunch of kids playing dress-ups."

"Playing dress-ups and taking down gangs don't exactly go together, Kent. I want you to check it up. See if we can find when this all started."

"Will do. And Bruce?"

"Yes?"

"Next time you see Tynan, could you have a talk with him? He listens to you."

"I will, Clark. But nothing I can do will be a long term solution. You're going to have to tell him."

"What if he's not ready?"

"Chances are, he's probably been ready for years now. The only thing missing is your trust in him."

"Would you trust him? If he was your son?"

"If he were my son, he'd be a different person. But if I were you, I'd trust him with my life."

"And your secrets?"

"Yes."

For a full minute Bruce heard nothing but the sound of himself breathing. Then, Clark spoke.

"I'll check out records of the sightings. I'm calling a Founders' Meeting tomorrow. See you then." Clark cut the connection.

Bruce sighed. Alfred raised an eyebrow.

"A vicious circle, distrust in a relationship. Is it not, Master Bruce?"

He was met with only stony silence. Sighing, he walked out of the Batcave, leaving the mug of coffee on the table.

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_**BTW, I'm not saying Supes is an abusive father or something. That was a one-off; Tynan actually pulled his body away from his arm. If the stupid boy had just stopped –shakes head sadly– Anyways, Tynan's a total brat, so why does Batman trust him? And who are Bruce and Alfred trying to protect? Will Tynan make up with his parents? Will he even come home? Why am I asking all these questions that I already know the answers to? Thanks for reading, Please Review!**_

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	3. Chapter 3

_**I'm sorry to say that this chapter is really, really bad, but necessary reading to understand the rest of the story. That's why it took so long for me to write it: I kept trying to make it less horrible. But anyway, this is (unfortunately) as good as it's going to get and I need to post it to continue this story. So, I hope you guys find something that you like about it, and I promise, wait, I'll just check my notes to see what's in it, yes, it will be a lot better/more exiting than this one, with lots of N.I.G.H.T.y goodness. And you'll meet one of my very favourite OCs too. So please forgive me for this chapter and please read the next one, which I promise will be up ASAP. I hope you enjoy, please R&R! No flames please...**_

_**Disclaimer: N.I.G.H.T., Bella Bertinelli Szasz, Tynan Lane, Mark and Isobel Queen are all my ideas. The rest is property of DC comics, in which DC is short for Detective Comics, so technically you're actually saying Detective Comics Comics...**_

_**And now I'll shut up so you can read the story.**_

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_Saving The Little Guy_

_Chapter Three_

"Hey Mom," the raven-haired girl said gloomily as she climbed into the car.

"Hey sweetie. How was school?" the woman in the driver's seat asked, half turning to look at her daughter. The girl might have looked a lot like her mother, but she didn't take after her socially. As her father said, she couldn't make normal friends if she tried, and she certainly didn't try. Instead she spent her lunches in the library, reading a book in an hour or timing how long it took her to hack the school mainframe. Her record was two minutes thirteen seconds. She was trying to beat someone who set the standard at no minutes twenty seven seconds.

Helena Bertinelli had no idea who that person was. Maybe Question knew. Bella's father was good at that sort of thing.

"The usual, Mom. Why you always ask is beyond me."

"It's a good conversation starter," Helena admitted, starting the car. "I just need to stop at the post office. That okay?"

"It won't take too long, will it?" Bella asked worriedly, looking at her watch. The woman sometimes known as Huntress raised an eyebrow.

"No, but why? Expecting a call, are we?"

Bella smirked in irritating resemblance of her father. "Something like that," she answered cryptically. Helena groaned.

"You are far too much like Dad, you know that, Bella?"

"Don't look at me. You married him. And then did several other things to him that I'd rather not think about."

"You have a seriously overactive imagination, young lady."

The young Bertinelli-Szasz rolled her eyes. "Well, unless I'm adopted, I'm real live proof that you've at least –"

Right then they pulled up outside the post office, and Helena breathed a sigh of relief. There were some things she'd just rather not talk about with her only daughter.

Getting out of the car and heading towards the post box, Helena's arm brushed against some papers stuck to the window of the post office. She turned to make sure she hadn't knocked any of them off, and was unwillingly exposed to a group of Missing Person posters.

Phyllis Rians, Matthew Terrace, and Lily-Ingrid Walters were all fairly recent ones, while Jeremy Andrews, Helena Wayne, Gabriel Summers, and Arthur Dallan had been up there for at least half a year, and at most five years. Helena knew for a fact that the oldest, other than Ernest Yarcavitch, was a two-person poster that was laminated and distributed all around Blüdhaven, not to mention Gotham, Metropolis, Central City, and many others, even though the people on the poster lived in Star City before they disappeared and their family still did. Isobel and Mark Queen.

Isobel would be around seventeen now, Helena reminisced. Several years before the League was founded, Dinah Lance had met the mayor of Star City, Oliver Queen, in a nightclub where both had gotten considerably drunk and… well, next thing Dinah knew, she was having a caesarean section. When she woke up, the doctors told her she had lost the child.

Maybe it would have been better that way, but seven years later, Batman found a record on Cadmus computers of a DNA file which was half hers, half Green Arrow's. It was her daughter. Cadmus had had her raised in a secret facility, training her to fight against the Justice League. Dinah, her husband Ollie, Huntress and Question had found the facility and rescued her. The seven-year-old was named Isobel, and after half a year of counselling with the League's very own J'onn J'onnz, she was perfectly normal kid, with the tiny exception of having an extremely powerful sonic scream. Still, even her little brother, who was three at the time, had that, so she fit right in.

Nine years later, Isobel and Mark had disappeared, and no matter where they looked, no matter how many Leaguers helped them in their search, no trace of them could be found.

Helena brushed away a stray tear rolling down her cheek. She was Isobel's godmother and the sudden loss had hit her as hard as anyone else.

As she slipped her letters into the post box, Helena contemplated what it would be like to lose her own daughter. She shuddered. Bad guys beware: if any of them so much as thought about laying a finger on Bella Bertinelli Szasz they would pay with their lives.

Quickly, Helena turned around to check Bella was still there, and caught her only child staring at the posters with a look on her face she always wore when she was trying to figure something out. Bella was more of a detective than a conspiracy theorist, but she was still very good at what she did; maybe even better than her father. If there was ever any hope to find Isobel and Mark, Bella was it.

"Bella? Are you okay?" her mother asked tentatively. The thirteen-year-old looked up.

"Sure, Mom, I'm fine. Let's go."

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"Hey Dad," Bella called as she walked past her father's office.

"Bella, has the new history teacher at your school tried to talk to you, because if he does, run away fast. I have discovered that he was in a 'classic rock band' in his teens, and has alone caused zero point one zero zero seven per cent of damage to the ozone layer–"

"That's great, Dad. I kinda need to do homework now, bye." Bella ducked into her room; she loved her father, but when he got all conspiracy theorist, she found it was favourable just to disappear.

Her phone began to ring just as she entered the room. Bella might not have had many friends at school, but she got enough phone calls that her parents let her get an extra line. She quickly answered.

"Right on time Ty. You're learning."

She listened for a minute, and then answered. "Yep. Meet me at four outside Greg's Garage in Metropolis. Make sure no one follows you." … "'Course. Tell your parents you're meeting a friend."

… "Yep. See you then, bye."

She hung up, and at the same time, Vic Sage pressed stop on his tape recorder. One half of a conversation wasn't much use to most people, but it was more than enough for Question to figure out who his daughter had been talking to.

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Metropolis

Clark Kent and Lois Lane-Kent's Apartment

Lois heard the sound of familiar irritating humming, and she rushed to the door.

"Tynan!"

He was actually singing a Three Doors Down song under his breath she could not think of the name of. He didn't stop when he saw her, just kept on mumbling the lyrics, half-way through the chorus.

"Tynan! Where have you been?" his mother demanded, extracting only a vague look and a raised eyebrow from the blue eyed teen.

"Why? Up all night, were you?" he replied cynically. "Funny, I came in last night and you were in bed next to Clark, sleeping soundly. I'm not surprised really; it's not like it wasn't obvious you didn't want me around."

Lois blushed furiously. It had taken Clark a long time, but he had finally convinced her to go to bed. Now she felt she shouldn't have. No counsellor or therapist could tell her what made her relationship with her son so difficult, except that he was keeping something from her, and everyone else, they thought. Something big. Trying to figure out what that might be was like trying to shoot a deer in a crowded forest wearing a blindfold and with a limited number of arrows. And absolutely no archery training.

"Tynan, you...I…" Lois tried to tell him her reasons, but looking in his cold blue eyes, she saw pain, loss, anger, despair, and other emotions, and she could not explain their presence in her son. She had always been there for him, and Clark was kind to him too.

She just didn't understand what had gone wrong.

The boy's anger melted away as he saw the tears form in his mother's eyes. He placed a friendly hand on her shoulder. "It's okay Mom…It was late. You were tired. I understand."

Lois sniffed and glared at him though her tears. "No more late nights for you, young man."

"I promise I'll be back by nine tonight. I have to meet a friend."

"And no going out after that?"

"Back by nine, no going out afterwards. I promise."

After a second of silence in which Lois gave him a glare which said if he didn't keep that promise there'd be hell to pay.

Sometimes she wondered if the doctors had been wrong and he really did have bipolar disorder. Though the mood swings had only really started when he reached teenage-dom. It was probably perfectly normal. Argh, why couldn't she make up her mind?

"You and I," she told her son, "are going to have a little talk about respecting your family."

"Can I have breakfast first?"

"At this time of day, it's called afternoon tea. Other than that, knock yourself out."

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_**Please Review!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**It's been way too long since I last updated, so I'm just going to upload this now while I have the chance. Thanks to those who reviewed the last few chapters, and to everyone, Please R&R!**_

**_Disclaimer: Ghost, Twilight, Enigma, Black Arrow, Red Arrow, Phase, Wolf, The Serpents, Tynan Lane, and several other OCs are my ideas and characters, and are of no relation to other characters of those names._**

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_Saving The Little Guy_

_Chapter Four_

_...  
_

_Entertainment District, Gotham City_

"…And then Jekyll was like, 'I know what have to do!' And then he like, drank the potion and like…" Teresa Dawes smiled as her seven-year-old son rattled off about the movie they'd just seen. Her husband David laughed and wrapped his arm around her waist, careful not to disturb their baby daughter, Heather, who was sleeping in her mother's arms.

Their son Kevin rounded the corner before them, still talking about the movie, and then suddenly he screamed. The young couple rounded the corner and were greeted with the sight of their son backing away from a man blocking the way through.

"Excuse me–" began David politely, but snapped his mouth shut when the man raised a gun.

"Money and jewellery," the man demanded sharply. Kevin whimpered in fear. David and Teresa exchanged worried glances. Surely this wasn't happening to them? It was Gotham, and people got mugged every day of the week, but it had never happened to them. But the gun was clearly real, and the man was serious, desperate. It was happening, no doubt about it. And when they had their children with them too.

Never underestimate Gotham City.

David slowly and obviously removed his wallet and placed the notes from inside on the ground as far in front of him as he could. "There," he said shakily. "Take it."

The man picket up the bills, and then slowly moved the gun until it was trained on Teresa. "I said jewellery!"

"I'm taking it off, I…" She trailed off, sniffing. David quickly took their daughter from his wife, who had started sobbing. She pulled off her pearl necklace and rolled it towards the man. It rolled just out of the man's reach. He glared at the family.

"Don't move, or you'll be sorry."

He lowered his gun for a second to grab the necklace. "You rolled that too far on purpose, didn't–" he was cut off by a kick to the gut. As he crumpled the gun was ripped from his hand and a swift punch to the head had the criminal out cold.

Teresa gasped, and Kevin hid behind his father. A woman – or perhaps a girl, Teresa couldn't tell – dressed in black stood before them, pausing to check the injuries she had inflicted on their now unconscious assailant. Long, silky black hair fell down her back as she clicked handcuffs around the man's limp wrists. She turned to them.

"I suggest you call the cops. He won't be out for long." After a slight moment of hesitation, she addressed the couple's son. "And, kid?"

"Yeah?" Teresa noticed the front of her suit was adorned with a dark blue four-pointed star.

"Appreciate your parents. You nearly lost them."

And before they could blink the masked woman vanished into the night.

-----------N-------------I----------------G--------------H----------------T------------

_Cygnus Bay, Metropolis_

The lights of Metropolis apartment blocks cast an eerie glow on the isolated district of Cygnus Bay. There was no electricity to the old port. This was one of the things Ghost liked about this part of the city. There was nothing like the embarrassment of trying to sneak around when suddenly someone puts a floodlight on you.

"Glad you could make it," came a voice from the darkness. Ghost half-smiled.

"Enigma. Always a pleasure." He turned to regard the faceless girl in the navy blue trench coat. "Did you get the information on the shipment?"

"Of course." She removed a black handheld computer from inside her coat. He took it and quickly flicked through the information. Enigma noticed a slight movement in his face that meant he was raising an eyebrow at her.

"Jackson's joined the Serpents?" the black clad male asked curiously.

"It's only a temporary arrangement. He's just keeping himself up to try and restart his old gang."

"And you found where they're meeting?"

"Oh yes," the girl said, turning to leave. "We'll talk on the way."

-----------N-------------I----------------G--------------H----------------T------------

Far above, Kal El of Krypton regarded his city, contemplating the events of the past few days. He gazed at the stars, in the hope they could answer some of his many questions.

A plane flew by. The stars glittered with white light, except for one, which flitted between blue and red, revealing it to be a satellite.

Nothing. No sign from the heavens, no miracle cure. The Man of Steel sighed; what he really wanted was go off to the Fortress of Solitude for a week and ask the Atom if he could come up with some kind of Kryptonian version of aspirin. Then hopefully this constant pounding headache would go away.

Actually, perhaps he should ask Bruce about the whole Kryptonian aspirin thing. He was one person who definitely understood the importance of painkillers.

His comm. link beeped. "Superman reporting," he said flatly.

"Clark?" came the voice of the Martian, slightly less monotone than usual. "We've received an 'anonymous tip-off'. It was directed to you."

"Can you trace it?"

Silence. Then, "No."

Clark sighed, worried. It was not often they could not trace messages to their source. "What did the tip-off say?"

" 'Strange shadows watch the snakes tonight'," J'onn replied calmly.

Clark blinked. "What?"

"It means," Came Batman's cold, gruff voice through the comm. link, "That those mystery vigilantes you think are such a threat are investigating The Serpents. Apparently."

"Who?"

"The Serpents. A street gang. They've been associated with drug dealing, gang violence and often take bribes to eliminate certain members of the public. Their branch in Metropolis is the largest, but other gangs controlled by the Serpents exist in Blüdhaven, New York, Star City and Gotham."

"Do you know where they might be?"

"Yes," intoned the Martian. "I am sending you to the co-ordinates we received now."

-----------N-------------I----------------G--------------H----------------T------------

_Justice League Watchtower, Earth's Orbit_

Wonder Woman turned to the Dark Knight as J'onn focused on using the teleporter to transport the Man of Steel to the required location.

"Do these…Serpents cause you much trouble in Gotham?" she asked curiously. He shook his head.

"Not really. Mostly the Gotham Serpents are into street crime and muggings. Yesterday there was a report of a family that was threatened at gunpoint by one of their lower down members, but someone… intervened. The man was arrested."

Diana knew he was telling her this for a reason. Batman didn't disclose information for the sake of saying something. "Do you know who, uh, intervened?"

He shook his head. "But I'm pretty sure it's one of our mysterious vigilantes. There've been reports all over Gotham, but no clear descriptions. I need you to go talk to the couple. Their names are Teresa and David Dawes, and they live at 41 Xan Avenue. Teresa's a big fan of yours; you saved her sister's daughter once."

"I don't want to use someone's gratitude for what was just me doing my job to pressure them into giving us information," Diana said, a hint of steel in her tone. She wasn't going to be manipulated by a man, let alone this man. He didn't love her, he'd made that clear; so she wouldn't love him. She knew when she wasn't wanted.

"Diana," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I don't want to hurt this family either. That's why I'm asking you to do this. They told the police what they saw, but the Gotham PD aren't exactly Justice League friendly."

The Amazon princess wasn't going to back down without a fight. "Can't you just hack into the police database?" she asked, making her reluctance nothing short of obvious.

"But, Princess," Batman replied, smirking, "That would be illegal."

And with that he strode away, feeling triumphant and leaving Wonder Woman saddled with the task.

"Really," Diana wondered in amazement. "How does he do that?"

-----------N-------------I----------------G--------------H----------------T------------

_Warehouse, 193 Ferris Road, Metropolis_

Superman was not very good at sneaking. Batman had tried to teach him, but the Man of Steel's expertise lay in ripping down doors and saving civilians from falling. It went completely against his nature to hide in the shadows and creep up on people.

He would have asked Batman to do this for him, except Metropolis was his city, and his own responsibility.

As were the people in it, and these new vigilantes were no exception.

He had a bad feeling that they had actually been around for quite a while, but he had ignored them until now. There had been enough rumours and even articles in less popular tabloids such as _The Inquisitor_ and _The Daily Star_, but he had studiously ignored them until Lois had an up close encounter with not one but six of the mysterious vigilantes.

_Six!_ He shook his head internally. Was that how many it took to convince the Man Of Steel that something was wrong? There were already a few too many rumours floating around the League that the Kryptonian wasn't the sharpest knife in the butcher's shop and this slip-up supported them.

So, as he floated in the shadows of the warehouse, he was determined to make up for it. He would find out who these strange vigilantes were, and he would stop them once and for all.

He looked through a few crates with his x-ray vision, and spied a dark figure crouched in a crevice between the massive metal boxes. A long dark blue trench coat covered everything but the head of long black hair and black sneakers on the figure's feet. As they turned slightly to raise a gloved hand to their right ear, Clark realised it was one of the figures from Lois' photographs, the girl with no face. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the mask, but to his surprise he couldn't, as if it were made of lead. But something told him that wasn't it. No sane person would wear lead, especially not on his or her face. No, this must have been designed to resist x-ray vision.

He didn't have time to contemplate this specially designed defence against **him**, because the girl stood up suddenly and climbed nimbly up the metal crate, then, as she reached the top, started running and jumping across crates, silently racing for the exit.

"Where do you think you're going?" he said loudly, appearing in front of her.

"Shit!" came a yell from one of criminals. "It's the alien! Scatter!"

They did so, but Kal-El didn't follow them. The Serpents could be dealt with. It was the girl in front of him that was the threat.

Up close, he saw that she couldn't be more than fifteen at a stretch. Her long black hair curled slightly at the bottom, and though the Pseudoderm covered her face, he could feel her eyes staring at him, though in anger or fear he couldn't tell. She darted to the left and tried to run.

"Who are you?" he demanded, blocking her efforts to escape. "You're just a kid!"

He saw her jaw move, as if she'd opened her mouth, and for a second he had the irrational thought that she was actually going to answer. Instead, she whispered one word, obvious not to the hero before her.

"_Ghost_."

And a second later, a red on black blur crashed into the Man of Steel.

What's more, it moved him. A long way.

Superman flew backwards from the force of the blow, but managed to stop before he crashed through the warehouse wall. He looked up and saw the girl in the trench coat running for the exit, but blocking the Kryptonian's path was an obviously male figure, dressed in black, with blood red markings on the shoulders and chest. His mask, which covered his entire head, with dark lenses covering his eyes, had the same x-ray proof technology as that of the Pseudoderm on the girl's face. Clark felt anger rise in his veins. No matter what everyone else thought, these… _hooligans_ seemed to have weapons specifically targeted against _him_.

"Enigma!" called the boy, who was probably in his late teens, as his partner stopped to look at where he stood facing the Man Of Tomorrow. "Run!"

The girl, apparently named Enigma, nodded, and ran out. Clark floated upwards, trying to get some advantage over the figure in black, but his opponent followed him, drifting upwards to face him with a casual stance that showed he was an experienced flier.

"Stand down," Superman called, being enough of a realist to know he wouldn't be obeyed. What he didn't expect, however, was to be answered.

"Why?"

Clark blinked. He thought of saying about how the x-ray proof masks made them direct threats to him and Metropolis, but he realised that he himself would rather keep his identity secret. There was no concrete link between the kryptonite and this person, as the photos Lois had taken showed he had not been there.

So instead he said, "Because vigilantism is illegal." As soon as he said it, even a Boyscout like Clark realised it sounded pathetic.

The black clad figure seemed equally aware of it.

"Oh, really? And would you like to define vigilantism for me? I'm a little rusty."

The voice was obviously being changed, maintaining a vocal anonymity that was required when evading Metropolis' protector.

"Vigilantism," Kal-El replied, watching his adversary carefully, prepared for a surprise attack while he was talking, "is taking the law into your own hands."

But it seemed it was a verbal battle the boy wanted to win.

"Funny," he mused, "But isn't taking the law into your own hands what you – you and your _Justice League –_ do every day, practically?"

"Well, yes, but that's different. There's no-one else who can do the things we do."

"Do you see anyone doing what we do?" the boy shot back.

"It's the police's responsibility," replied Clark, miffed. He wanted answers but this boy was just as strong as him and could also fly. His friend had escaped and that left the Kryptonian floating in this warehouse, idly chatting when he really needed answers. "Not that of a bunch of kids."

Rather than taking offence, the vigilante answered as quickly and calmly as before. "But the police aren't up to it, are they, Superman? And now that all the heroes are in the Justice League, fighting monsters and supervillains, there's no-one to deal with scum like the Serpents." The figure floated at least ten metres away from Superman, but they were on perfect eye level. "No-one but us."

"And who exactly are '_us_'?" The crucial question.

The black clad vigilante laughed gently, as if at an inside joke.

"You can call us Night. N-I-G-H-T." The teen raised a hand in farewell. "And whether you like it or not, the world needs people to save the little guy. Even if a '_bunch of kids_' is the best it can get."

And he was gone before Clark could blink.

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_**Please Review!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Short update, but I liked where it ended. Next one will take a while, I'm very sorry, but I will try and make it worth it. Thanks for all the reviews: this fic's 5 review count makes me ridiculously happy, it's pretty pathetic. But I'm glad of all constructive criticism: trust me, I know my writing could use a lot of work.**_

_**DaisyJane: You have way to many questions for me to answer as myself (which is good. I like questions :) ), so I'll let the fic deal with most of them. But as to are all the people on the missing posters part of N.I.G.H.T.: no. The vast majority of them are just names I made up. I even stole one of them from Marvel comics. Thank you so much for reviewing!  
**_

**_Disclaimer: Ghost, Twilight, Enigma, Black Arrow, Red Arrow, Phase, Wolf, The Serpents, Tynan Lane, and several other OCs are my ideas and characters, and are of no relation to other characters of those names._**

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_Clocktower, Gotham City._

Long before the Watchtower and the Metrotower, there was the Clocktower.

Built in the early twentieth century, the tower of grey stone was too old to be of any interest to the general public, and too new to fascinate historians. It was a constant, and most Gothamites had been hearing its lonely call every hour on the hour since the day they set foot in the city of shadows.

What few were aware of, however, were that there were apartments at the very top of the Clocktower itself. And that a year or so ago, –under the strictest confidentiality, of course– these apartments had acquired a new owner.

The most spacious places in the building (aside from the room behind the clock face, which the current residents used as a medical facility) were the balconies that ran around it. In fact, it was really just one balcony, a long strip about two metres wide with walls one and a half metres tall, adorned with leering gargoyles. It was there that Isobel Queen sat, knees hugged to her chest.

The cold wind blew around the mass of stone, and the teen shivered involuntarily. She sat back against the rough wall and sighed. Gotham, despite popular opinion, had a certain charm in its dark, looming buildings and gothic themes. But she felt a strange loneliness in this vast, cold city that matched so well with her vengeful and self-isolating personality, and incomprehensibly yearned for the brightness and noise of her hometown.

Her brother called this being _homesick_. He said he was too.

Isobel had come to the conclusion that homesickness could generally only be cured by finding _home_. She knew were her home had been, of course: Star City was, if nothing else, hard to forget. But a stain of betrayal marked her former sanctuary, and now she had to find somewhere else.

The Clocktower was where she and her 'baby brother' had been living for the past few months. Rooms were stripped to the bare essentials and rather pokey, food was rather basic, and they spent most of their time training, working, or sleeping.

The Queen siblings loved the place.

The only other resident was its owner, the ever-mysterious Twilight. She was known to most of N..T. by her codename alone, and to the higher ups by her alias, Martha Kyle. Only the others in the N.I.G.H.T. five knew her real name. Still she would always be Twilight to Isobel, just as the Queen girl would always be Arrow to her. Dusk seemed to be the Gotham-born vigilante's favourite time, and it suited her.

As if on cue, as the warm light of the sun finally drizzled out from behind the horizon, the black-clad girl emerged from the tower, mask on. Isobel raised an eyebrow.

"Patrol? Already?"

Twilight nodded. "Unfortunately we have to start early tonight. We have a _special guest_."

"She's here already? Are you sure?"

The masked girl nodded. "I just saw her on video feed. She should be coming out of the house soon. We need to get there before she takes off."

Queen stood up. "Should I get Red?" she queried. Twilight shook her head.

"Let him rest. We can take of this."

Isobel Queen, soon to be Black Arrow, nodded and went inside to change.

-----------N-------------I----------------G--------------H----------------T------------

Diana waved goodbye as she walked down the driveway. She hadn't found out a great deal, but Teresa and David had given her a warm enough welcome and what they had told her left her head spinning with ideas. They had given her a good description of their saviour and the boy had relayed the message given to him by the masked vigilante. It suggested a tragic past; and Diana felt sure it was something similar to Batman's past that spurred the young woman into vigilantism.

She was so preoccupied with what she had heard; she actually deigned to walk to where she'd parked her invisible jet. After all, what could go wrong? She was Diana, Princess of the Amazons, with faster reflexes than any thug with a gun and the strength of a god to boot. Walking was just as safe as flying, and it gave her more time to think.

She walked down a dark alley, marvelling at how much more intimidating it seemed when one was walking through it instead of flying over. She was contemplating the psychology of this when something hissed passed her ear and actually embedded itself in the brick wall.

An arrow.

She spun around, ready to fly away from the threat, when she realised the shooter was on the roof. They also had either incredible marksmanship or dumb luck: Diana was sure they weren't shooting to kill, despite the fact the arrow had so much force behind it that it could sink into stone.

Blocking her way from the alleyway on the opposite side to the archer, was a tall, black clad figure with a navy blue star on the front. A silver throwing star glistened in her left hand.

"You," Diana declared, a little less strongly than she would have liked. The mask that covered the vigilante's face had no hole for a mouth, but Wonder Woman was sure that the other woman was smirking.

"Yes, me," she replied, with just the barest hint of sarcasm. "But we haven't been properly introduced."

"Princess Diana of Themiscyra, sometimes known as Wonder Woman," the Justice League Founder said primly, but inside she was seething. Who was this woman, or even girl? Diana could tell from here that this person could easily be either. Still, she had the confidence and tone of an adult, and if you were to believe she'd bypassed Wayne Industries high-tech security system, the intelligence of one too. "And who might you be? Not to mention your friend up there," the Princess added, indicating the shooter.

The addressed cocked her head slightly, seeming to focus on Diana, but somehow she could tell that behind the white lenses, those eyes were constantly moving, scanning side to side, up and down, and in and out. Her adversary, Diana decided, had an air of someone very smart, very skilled, and therefore very dangerous.

_Well_, the Amazon decided, _Girl or woman, she's obviously younger than me, and less experienced, I'll bet_.

The vigilante seemed content to answer for the moment though. "Little old me? Oh, they call me Twilight," she paused to indicate the archer. "This is Arrow; a bit of an obvious name, but it runs in the family."

_Runs in the family?_ Diana suddenly turned around. "Hera! You're _Isobel Queen_," she said, soft in volume, but firm in certainty. But why would Dinah and Ollie's daughter be working with an organization so obviously corrupted as N.I.G.H.T.?

The archer made no reply except to lose the arrow from her bow faster than Diana could blink. It sailed through the air and for once, time didn't seem to slow down as it always did when a projectile had Diana listed as it's final destination. But this was not, as she thought for a split second, because she was losing her touch. It was due to the fact that something inside her realised that she was not the target.

The arrow slammed into the wall, and Diana's eyes were drawn to the impact. She saw the head of the arrow break and a folded up sheet of paper inside. She reached towards it, then hesitated.

"What are –" she started, turning around to demand to the vigilantes what was going on, but she stopped mid-sentence.

Arrow and Twilight were nowhere to be seen.

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_**Please Review!**_

_**( Just of curiosity, who wants to see Diana snog Batman in this fic?)  
**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Okay, so another short update, but far faster than I thought I'd be, and, being the theatrical type that I am, I couldn't help but end it where I did. Another reason I updated was because of the four reviews I received for chapter five: That's right, four! It made me insanely happy when I realised the review count for this story was nine, which is officially just *one* away from double digits. So many thanks to DaisyJane, Birdhearted, Crazyrenegade, and Pippa Spark, and without further ranting, here is the chapter:  
**_

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_Saving The Little Guy_

_Chapter Six_

_

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_

_Founder's Conference Room, Justice League Watchtower, Earth's Orbit_

"A web address? In an arrow? Are you serious?"

"I was surprised too. A death threat seemed more appropriate, but see for yourself."

Diana handed the paper over to the incredulous looking Superman, who looked over it in surprise.

"There's a time too? What's that for?" he asked, examining the words on the page. They were typed, with Wayne Enterprises ink and printer, which irritated Batman – and Superman – to no end. The least alarmed of the Founding Seven seemed to be J'onn, and even he was a little off-balance. Clark was threatened. Bruce was sulky. Diana was confused, and Flash echoed the sentiment. John was annoyed and Shayera, after hearing how the two N.I.G.H.T. members had cornered Wonder Woman, was downright hostile. They'd been steadily rebuilding their friendship over the past years, and while they still had their disagreements, Diana had been a good friend to Shayera in times of hardship.

"Perhaps they want to talk with us," The Bat suggested flatly from his chair, which Wally had decorated with a cut out of a bat from his work Halloween party a little while back. Batman had been too busy to deal with the speedster so there it remained. "Or maybe they want to infect the League computer system. Whichever."

Bruce was the only one who Diana had told about her suspicions about Isobel Queen. He was the logical choice, as he was one of the few of the founders who could be trusted not to go off to Ollie or Dinah with the news. Batman may be incredibly annoying, but he was discreet.

"Do you think we should try it?" asked Clark, nervousness creeping into his voice at Batman's suggestion. The Watchtower had been hacked once already, and Clark was still searching for the origin of the alien threat hoax.

"I've secured the council room terminal," Bruce informed him. "It's no longer connected to the League database, so even if they do put a virus through this is the only computer that will be damaged."

Superman contemplated for a few seconds, then nodded. "Call John and Wally. Let's find out what these kids are up to."

-----------N-------------I----------------G--------------H----------------T------------

The website was pretty barren. It was dark grey, and its only feature was a black rectangle with numbers in white counting down the time. Seventeen minutes.

"Hey Supes, if they're going to talk to us, shouldn't you have the sound on?"

"No," growled Batman instantly. "We'll turn it on when they come on."

"Why?" The speedster wanted to know. "Afraid they'll assault our ears with something, are you?"

And before any of them could stop him, he turned on the sound.

_I lose my way,_

_And it's not too long before you point it out._

_I cannot cry,_

_Because I know that's weakness in your eyes._

_I'm forced to fake_

_A smile, a laugh everyday of my life._

_My heart can't possibly break_

_When it wasn't even whole to start with…_

"Kelly Clarkson, ick," Flash said in disgust, and turned the volume right down to escape the background music. "That's what you were worried about?" he asked Batman, surprised. The Dark Knight glared.

"It was getting annoying."

Superman nodded in agreement, and Wally launched into his opinion of good music. This continued for several minutes, Bruce watching the timer the whole time. Ten minutes.

"I don't think they're going to show," commented Shayera. "I mean, why would they want to make clear to us which of them are in charge?"

"Maybe they'll try and trick us," suggested John. "You know, make insignificant people seem important."

Five minutes.

"They'd better show, or I'll know Luthor's behind this," Superman declared.

Two minutes.

"I don't think Luthor's taste in music is that bad. He's more of a classical type of guy. Me, I like stuff like Tomorrow by SR-71. Stuff that invokes more feeling than though."

No minutes.

"And Three Doors Down are alright, except they've written a Superman song and not a _Flash_ song…"

"Uh, Flash?"

"What? Don't you think I should have a song?"

"Flash."

"I mean, there are all these Superman songs and even some Super_girl _songs, but no Flash ones. Why don't I, and GL and Shay and Wondy and even Bats get the recognition you get, Supes?"

"_Flash_."

"What?" Wally asked, looking up, then saw the figures on the screen. "Oh. Oops."

"No, do continue, Flash," said Twilight scathingly; "I'm finding it terribly interesting. Though I think a band called Jim's Big Ego have an ode to your predecessor."

"Really?" asked Wally, then shut his mouth when he realised who he was talking to. Superman took over.

"Twilight, is it?" he asked loudly. The vigilante cocked her head slightly.

"Superman, is it?" she mimicked, clearly annoyed. "Yes, as I'm sure Wonder Woman has already mentioned, my name is Twilight."

"What do you want from us?" Superman demanded bluntly. Twilight smirked.

"Well, I heard you were suffering from an extreme bout of paranoia and thought we should talk. Don't you agree?"

Wally stifled a smirk at that, and Superman looked offended. John saw this and thought he should take over.

"So you're the head of N.I.G.H.T.?" he asked tentatively, trying not to sound too cynical. Twilight could be anything from a tall fourteen year old to a short woman in her twenties, and she was dangerous at whatever age.

"Oh, I'd almost forgotten," she cried in a voice that made it very clear she hadn't. Then, in response to some unknown signal, the camera zoomed out. Twilight leaned back into a chair with two others on each side, with four figures clad in dark clothing.

"Justice League founders," she said, grinning beneath her mask, "I'd like you to meet the N.I.G.H.T. Five."

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_**Please Review!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**For starters, I haven't updated in, like, forever, and I'm really really sorry. This was written in a hurry, because I realised I hadn't updated in ages and really wanted to get something up tonight. So they will be a bit ooc**_**_, I'm really sorry, but Iwill try and fix it up later. For now, enjoy, and please, Read and Review!_**

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"_Who are they?!_" he yelled, sounding like a spoilt brat and not caring in the slightest. His assistant looked at him calmly through wire-framed glasses. "Who's messing with the shipment?"

"We're not sure, sir. However, there were pictures all over the news yesterday of some new vigilantes; perhaps it was their work?" she suggested, typing commands into the computer. Various pictures popped up.

Her employer scoffed. "They're just kids playing Justice League," he snarled, turning away from the monitor. He waved his hand dismissively. "No, the real culprit is a much bigger player, I'm sure of it. You'd have to be a genius to get past my security." He hesitated, thinking. "However, we should probably have them checked out. I'll get someone on it. You can go now, Emma."

The advisor left with a respectful nod and a head peered out from behind a partition. "I thought she would never leave," the redhead remarked mischievously, walking up and running a seductive hand down his cheek. He reached up and caught it gently.

"Is it the Kryptonian, do you think? Perhaps the Bat?" she asked, losing the seductive layer in favour of a more businesslike tone. He frowned and nodded.

"Do not fret, my dear, he cannot know the whole truth. I locked them out before they could get to my plans. They have since been erased from the mainframe." He kissed her hand and its pair found its way under his stiff collar to his bare chest.

"So everything is in order?" she asked, though he knew she'd already checked a million times that day. He smiled.

"Of course."

"When will it start, dearest?" she asked, again with complete knowledge of the answer. She slid her hand further down his chest.

"Soon, my dear," he said, enjoying the feeling of her skin on his. "Soon…"

-----------N-------------I----------------G--------------H----------------T------------

The steel warehouse was filled with dust and insects, remnants of the thirty odd years gone by. The five black chairs were occupied by figures clothed in dark colours, with faces covered in masks. All of these were black, except for the figure on the far left, who wore a dark grey hood over his face. The teen smiled as Twilight spread her arms wide as the camera panned out. She always was one for theatrics.

Superman's voice echoed from the speakers. "Who are _you_?" he asked, less of a question than a demand for answers. This, he took as his cue. Twilight wasn't the only dramatic one.

"Vanish," his said in a soft, low voice, adding a slight hissing quality to his speech. He let the single word hang in the air until Isobel, sitting next to him, took the initiative.

"As you all surely know by now, my name is Black Arrow," she replied, watching the Founding Seven's eyes as they mentally compared her to all the blondes they knew. She sat up straight and stared right back; it was no use hiding, they'd either recognise her or they wouldn't. Wonder Woman may well have already told them about her. Watching his teammate's silent struggle to keep a straight face, Vanish was grateful, not for the first time, of the hood that covered his head. Even with it, Batman's white lenses stared him down probingly, searching for familiar movements or gestures, lists of possible identities streaming through his head. "This is Wolf," Arrow continued, indicating the oldest of the group, a dark haired male with a full-face mask. The lycanthrope nodded, dark eyes studying the group of brightly coloured individuals on the screen.

"And I'm sure Supes has told you all about me," the last member added, grinning wickedly. "They call me _Ghost_." His infuriating cheek had the desired affect on Shayera, who reached for her mace as though she could smash him through the screen. The jeering tone clearly got to John as well.

"Who call you Ghost?" demanded Green Lantern. "I thought you lot _weren't media oriented_, eh?"

Ghost blinked. "Them," he said, and pointed vaguely in the direction of his teammates.

"Right," said Wonder Woman diplomatically. She regarded them with a measured gaze. "If you're the N.I.G.H.T. five, why did a journalist report having seen six vigilantes taking down a group of supervillains in Blüdhaven a few days ago, only _some of whom_ resemble you five."

"We're the founders of N.I.G.H.T." Wolf spoke for the first time, and, surprisingly, his voice wasn't gruff, but smooth, and with a hint of a European accent. "There _are_ others."

"Oh, great," muttered John, rolling his eyes. "There are _more_ of you. I was beginning to get worried."

"What about your families?" growled Batman, ignoring his teammate's sarcastic remark. Twilight regarded him coolly. "Aren't you a little busy with the whole hero life?"

"What about yours?" she replied smoothly. The Bat's eyes narrowed. Flash, who had been surprisingly quiet as he strained to remember something, took this moment to voice his suspicions.

"Is– I mean, Arrow?" he said. Batman and Twilight both turned their withering glares on him for interrupting their argument, but he ignored them, as did the addressed vigilante.

"Yes?" At a glance she looked perfectly relaxed, but sitting right next to her as Vanish was, he could see that Arrow's hands gripped the chair as if trying to rip it off. Beneath her gloves, no doubt, her knuckles would be paper white.

It was the voice that did it for Wally. He stared at her for a split second (a formidable achievement), and then spluttered, aghast, "Isobel? Isobel _Queen?_"

Vanish felt heartily sorry for that chair. Its occupant was trying to physically crush its arm, as she had his one time during sparring.

Despite this, years of training – from Cadmus, from her parents, from herself – helped her keep a straight face. "Yes?" was her only reply.

Superman's eyes widened. "You were kidnapped!" Isobel glared at him: it was obviously a sore point.

"Yes," she replied icily. "I am aware of that."

"But they kidnapped you! Why are you _sitting with them_?"

Her sharp, _Your days are numbered_ glare vanished, quickly replaced with a half angry, half incredulous stare, which clearly read, _Are you on __**crack**__?_

"_We_ didn't take her, you nut," interrupted Ghost, who seemed equally unconvinced of the Man of Steel's sanity. "She's a _founder_; N.I.G.H.T. didn't _exist_ before she joined."

"And how do you know that they're not just manipulating you into thinking that?" The Kryptonian demanded. He had known Isobel Queen, not a great deal but enough to know that Dinah and Ollie's daughter wouldn't willingly be involved with something like this.

Despite this, the girl, who was so obviously a grown up Isobel, rolled her eyes. _I know what I'm doing_, her expression read.

"They're too young, perhaps?" she remarked, in a _Duh_ tone of voice. Her eyes, glaring from behind white lenses, bore no sign of cowering or embarrassment. Isobel was far beyond the stage to feel like a child playing dress-ups when people discovered her identity. Every piece of her costume was as much for protection as anything else: her jacket was lined with Kevlar; her mask was also bulletproof, made of carbon nanofibre. Archery wasn't her only skill, either: she could throw a knife over ten metres to hit a moving object point first (over thirty if the knife was balanced properly); she was excellent in hand-to-hand combat and knew every pressure point on the human body; she could leap gaps of over three metres; and she could drive almost every vehicle known to man. Isobel Queen felt more like a mask than her real identity.

And she had her own reasons for disusing that mask. Reasons that _Superman_ and people like him could never understand.

"Too young? It doesn't take age to deceive, as you're demonstrating now, actually."

Shayera's fingers were wrapped around her mace, her knuckles white. Her piercing green eyes glared at the blonde vigilante in anger. She wasn't great friends with Dinah, or Ollie for that matter, but this was their _daughter_, acting so cocky and casual after six years of being totally AWOL. Didn't she realise how _worried_ everyone had been? Couldn't she see that these vigilantes, whoever they were and whatever their intentions, _were not her family?_

Hadn't she _felt_ it, wherever she had been at the time, the very moment when her mother's heart broke?

Shayera had seen it, and she couldn't help but feel compassion for Dinah. She respected her, as a fellow hero, and as a person. Isobel had meant so much to her mother, and the Thanagarian simply didn't understand how she could just sit there as if nothing had happened. It was just like Bruce, sitting across the table from Diana, pretending he didn't notice every move that she made. Shayera simply couldn't comprehend how they could act so cold.

Her own relationship with Green Lantern was slowly returning to full bloom: after Mari and John had broken up, the two founders had started hanging around each other more often, and eventually broken away from simple friendship into a light romance. It had yet to become truly serious again, however, as Shayera still had some secrets of her own which John would have to come to terms with.

But even they had never been able to separate themselves completely.

Isobel either didn't notice or didn't care for Shayera's anger, and replied, ignoring the insult, "It does, however, require a certain age to orchestrate a successful kidnapping. And seeing as all my colleagues" _Except one_ "are younger than me, I don't think they were quite up to it at the time." Batman and Diana both quickly noted that little titbit of information. Twilight glared at her co-founder, irritated that she had given something away.

"Besides," Ghost added, in a subtle attempt to change the topic. At least, he hoped it was subtle, "Izzy knew her kidnappers quite well in the first place."

Arrow looked only mildly irritated at being referred to as Izzy: the key word being _looked_. Ghost inwardly winced as he realised that she was going to kill him afterwards. But these subtle cracks were invisible to the Leaguers; most of all Superman, who was focussing far more on what Ghost had actually said.

"Cadmus?" he demanded of the blonde who was on the edge of committing homicide right there and then, though was undecided as to whom to commit it on. She added a point to Superman's side for this idiotic question. "Waller?"

"Of course it was Cadmus," she retorted. Vanish noticed the chair was starting to break under Arrow's grip. The camera was position so it only showed their torso upwards, so the heroes didn't notice as Wolf gently tapped her hand. He was barely touching her, but her tone cooled from vicious to frosty. "Or did you just forget about them, like every other real threat, when someone starts doing good in the world with your Boyscout badge of approval?"

Before the Kryptonian could reply, Vanish spoke.

"Like how someone, for some reason, put you on invasion alert, saying that there was a Gordanian fleet on the way, when there was no such fleet. Or have you just decided that anyone outside the League doing their bit is more important than that?"

Because that was why they'd arranged to speak to the League, of course. Superman's _enquiries_ were getting in their way, and neither he nor any of N.I.G.H.T.'s investigators had been able to trace the plant. Twilight, Vanish knew, was trying everything she could, but to no avail. She had even hijacked the Metrotower database to search for an entrance there, but had come up empty handed. The Watchtower system would be a lot harder to get to. She was hoping the League would do a check of the system itself, but for now they seemed all too focussed on making things difficult for them to do their job.

"You expect us to believe that you weren't the ones who did that, seeing as you're so dedicated to making us look like idiots? Puh-lease," Flash said, rolling his eyes. "Despite what you seem to think, we're not total morons."

This irked Twilight to some degree, and she leaned towards the camera.

"Oh, so you think _that's_ our fault, too? Let me ask you this: has it ever occurred to you to ask _why_ we would want the League out of action?" She paused for a split second, the continued in voice that could cut titanium steel. "Despite what you seem to think, we don't savour the opportunity to clean up your _crap_. Because of _your_ interference," this was directed at Superman, "at least a dozen paid murderers who would have been behind bars this morning are roaming free, and you aren't doing _shit_ about it." Flash shifted uncomfortably under her burning gaze; lucky for him, she turned away, sighing in frustration. "I should've known better than to think we could get anything into your thick skulls. Don't blame us if it blows up in your face," she said and reached across to shut off the transmission. Batman's voice stopped her.

"Twilight; Isobel: remember what I said. You can't keep running forever."

There was long, tension-filled pause. Then Twilight said six words before cutting off the link:

"Just stay out of our way."

-----------N-------------I----------------G--------------H----------------T------------

_Founder's Room, Justice League Watchtower, Earth's Orbit._

Superman slammed his fists down on the conference table, causing it to shake under Diana's open palms. "Well that was _useless_! We learnt nothing, and now Dinah and Ollie have their daughter on the battlelines."

"This is not a war, Clark," intoned J'onn gently. He was disturbed by the amount of fear and anger that was emanating from his usually quite gentle friend. Tynan's antics were certainly taking their toll on his stepfather. Diana nodded.

"It does raise more questions than answers though," she pointed out.

It was twenty minutes or so since their conversation with the N.I.G.H.T. five, and Shayera, John, and Wally had all left, under strict instruction not to go running off to Green Arrow or Black Canary about Isobel. Not that they could keep it from them for long: Superman had been volunteered to break the news, given that he was bulletproof and had the greatest chance of surviving the experience.

This was far from encouraging for a group who were meant to be the world's greatest heroes. Needless to say, he wasn't looking forward to it.

"So it was totally useless," Clark completed. They all looked to Batman, expecting him to say something similar.

So they were all surprised when he went, "Not totally useless. I did get to confirm something I've been investigating."

Diana raised an eyebrow. He hadn't mentioned anything in their conversation beforehand.

Clark was equally confused. "You mean that Black Arrow is Isobel Queen? If you already knew, why didn't you tell us?"

Diana waited for him to shift the blame onto her so he could skulk off into the shadows, but he didn't. "That's not it. I was more interested in what Ghost called her. Izzy. Her childhood nickname was Bel."

"So? Maybe she's maturing."

"What do you think, Batman? That they know someone else called Belle?" Diana asked, curiosity piqued. He nodded.

"Or…" he said, producing the picture of the faceless girl from Lois' encounter, "…Bella."

* * *

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